


Not Average (Heathers Assassin AU)

by Kat_is_a_kit_kat



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Borderline Sociopathy, Cutting, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Faked Suicide, Fighting, Fluff, Idiots in Love, JD is kinda an idiot sometimes, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Overdosing, Past Abuse, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Suicide, Veronica is lowkey a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2020-09-23 09:35:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_is_a_kit_kat/pseuds/Kat_is_a_kit_kat
Summary: Heather Chandler's family has a legacy of passing down an organization that trains assassins.They go out on missions, assassinate targets, and attempt to do so as inconspicuously as possible.If someone witnesses them in the act of assassinating their target, they too, must be eliminated.Unless, the person who witnessed the assassination shows fighting potential.Enter Veronica Sawyer, a regular teenager going through life.She has no idea the mess she's about to be thrown into.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hello! 
> 
> Ever since midway through Forgiven, I've had this AU in mind. I've really wanted to work on this project, and now that Forgiven is nearing its end, I'm ready to start it!
> 
> This whole AU is less of a McDuke/JDronica/Kram fanfiction as it is a world building fanfiction.
> 
> I have a lot of ideas for this fanfiction, and I'm proud to announce, that unlike Forgiven, I have a script for this story that I've completed from start to finish.
> 
> Anyhow, thank you for choosing this fanfiction to read, and hopefully you enjoy it.
> 
> Oh yeah, the title is a placeholder until I figure out something clever to name it. Haha.
> 
> Anything in italics is something Veronica thinks.

Ever since Veronica could remember, she had always been an average teen. Average in smarts. Average in sports. Average in popularity. To everyone else around her, she was your run-of-the-mill teenager. A friendly face in the hall. An A-B grade on every test. A person that nobody really ever remembered. 

Despite it's simplicity, Veronica relished in the lack of daily strife that some of her classmates faced. She didn't need to worry about what to wear or who to sit with, because she never partook in drama or rumors. Keeping a clean slate and record that would make anybody wince at how white it was.

But despite the enjoyment of being average, of not having to constantly worry about being back-stabbed or who said what, she longed for something more. She didn't desire to be thrown into drama, or partake in lunchtime polls, but rather a burning sensation to do something, _anything_, with her life. Sure, she _enjoyed_ the simplicity that came with being average, but it didn't mean she _enjoyed_ being average.

However, one day, her entire life would be flip in one afternoon after making an unfortunate encounter with a certain someone.

. . .

It occurred on Thursday, September 12th, 2019. Veronica was walking home after a particularly boring day of school. Usually, her walks home were nothing special. Sometimes she'd brush with a person she knew. Other times, she'd hum a melody to make herself feel less lonely. Most of the times, she walked home in complete silence, wishing that somehow, magically, something would happen to spice up her life.

She was silently walking home, mourning her lack of a thrilling life, when she noticed a fellow classmate of hers walking towards her. The classmate was a male, with shaggy brown hair and glassy green eyes. He had on a red t-shirt and khakis. She recognized him as Nathan. They both had AP calculus together. She smiled and waved at him, but he ignored it, instead brushing straight past her and dropping a slip of paper.

Veronica paused for a moment, confused by his ignorance before she snapped back to reality and knelt down to pick up his paper. She gazed at it quickly. It was a progress report. She turned around, about to call out to him and return his paper when she froze. 

_There, not even ten feet away, stood a girl dressed in a red tank-top and black leggings stabbing Nathan in the throat. _

Veronica's mouth opened to scream, she dropped Nathan's paper and watched in horror as Nathan's body slumped lifelessly onto the sidewalk. With Nathan's body out of the way, Veronica got a better look at the girl. The girl had strawberry blonde hair, and fair skin. Her hair was pulled back with a red scrunchie. Her eyes were icy blue and glared into Veronica's soul.

The girl kept her eye contact with Veronica as she knelt down and pulled her dagger out of Nathan's throat. Once she stood up fully, she charged at Veronica.

Veronica, who immediately snapped out of being a vegetable once she saw the girl charging at her, quickly jumped out of the way of her charge. She felt her hands hit the blazing cement of the sidewalk and hastily hopped back to her feet. She ripped her backpack off her back and held it in front of her, hoping, _praying,_ that it would somehow protect her.

The girl, after having failed her first charge at Veronica, switched her dagger to her right hand and tried again. Veronica freaked, threw her bag at the girl, and then leapt to the left into the grass. The bag that Veronica threw at the girl hit her with a satisfying thud as it knocked her to the ground. This gave Veronica the opportunity to jump to her feet once more.

She and the girl quickly exchanged glances before Veronica dashed to her bag. The girl hopped back on her feet and leaped at Veronica, dagger in hand. Veronica barely managed to grab her bag, turn onto her back, and use it as a shield to block the dagger. The girl then took the dagger out and tried to stab Veronica through the bag again. Veronica's breathing hitched as the dagger narrowly avoided impaling her eye.

Thinking quickly, Veronica pulled her legs under the bag and kicked with all her might. She heard the thud of the girl hit the ground again. It was a relieving noise, but only momentarily. Veronica hopped to her feet and threw her bag at the girl before whipping around and running away.

She had only gotten ten feet or so when the girl called out to her. Her voice cut cleanly through the surprisingly thick silence around them and stopped Veronica in her tracks. Something about the voice was just authoritarian, Veronica felt the need to stop, the fear that to keep running would result in further punishment.

"_Wait_."

Veronica stood, frozen in fear, too scared to move. She slowly turned around to the girl who was walking towards her. She felt her breathing hitch with every step she took. Once the girl was in fighting range, Veronica felt her back arch, expecting her to attack, to do something. Instead, she stuck out her hand.

"Heather."

So, the girl's name was Heather. Strange, she looked quite like one. Her voice was laced with authority and now that she was closer, Veronica could make out more of her features. She had maroon diamond shaped earrings, and on her tank-top, was a red pedant in between the chest region. Her leggings had lightening shapes going down both sides that were a red gradient. Veronica also took notice of how much taller Heather was than her. Veronica was an average height of 5'5, meaning that Heather must've been around 5'9.

Veronica's heart stammered as her eyes darted from Heather's hand back into her eyes. Heather glared back at Veronica, her face blooming with impatience. Veronica sighed, deciding that this would be better than attempting to fight her off. She reluctantly shook Heather's hand.

"Veronica." 

Heather smiled. There was something off about her smile. It seemed genuine on the surface, well, as genuine as a smile for a murderer could be, yet deep down, the smile unsettled Veronica, it made her feel weirdly inferior. Heather retracted her hand and placed it on her hip, cocking her body back. She sighed, looking back at Nathan and then at Veronica. 

"You're really good at fighting." She smiled again. Veronica felt her anxiety rise. Something about Heather was not normal.

"T-thanks, I took self-defense classes." Veronica's voice stammered slightly, she felt her back arch forward. She vaguely remembered her parents signing her up for the class due to fear of her getting assaulted. Veronica thought it was pointless at first; looking back on it, she was thankful for it.

"Hm, alright then," Heather retracted her hand from her hip and used her index finger to point at Veronica. "You, come with me."

Veronica didn't know why when Heather spoke to her she felt so inferior. She had never felt this way before. Not by her parents, or even the school's most popular people. Heather simply had this sense of power that Veronica didn't like. 

"No." Veronica snapped out her trance. She may have been spared by Heather, but she was in no way going to go anywhere with her. Upon Veronica saying no, Heather shot her a glare. The glare frightened Veronica back into her trance. The glare emanated power and an air of superiority.

Heather put her hand back on her hip and sighed. "Look, unless you want to end up like that," Heather jutted her thumb in the direction of Nathan's body before putting her hand back down into a fist. "You should come me with me."

Veronica gulped, she had never been in a situation like this before. She didn't know why Heather was here or who she even was, but taking one last glance at Nathan's body, she swallowed her pride and nodded. Heather smiled her creepy grin once again before whipping out a red cellphone.

Upon somewhat closer inspection, Veronica saw that it was a iPhone X with a red case on it. Once again, Veronica was hit with the inferiority. Veronica never liked the color red, she always thought it was too vibrate and loud. Now that she was standing with the literal definition of red, she had never hated the color more.

Heather tapped on the phone's screen for a few seconds until she put the phone up to her ear. Heather tapped her foot and sighed impatiently as she waited for whomever she was calling to answer. After what must've been five rings, the person on the end of the line picked up. Veronica barely heard their muffled, 'Hello?'.

"Target's down, no witnesses, except for one, but it's a possible recruitment." Whomever was on the other line went silent for a moment before replying with something Veronica couldn't hear.

"Good, and make it snappy." Heather barked at the person before hanging up. She pocketed her phone and turned her attention back to Veronica. Veronica stared at her with nervous eyes. Heather chuckled and smiled a more genuine smile at Veronica. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you."

Veronica felt her back slowly let go of it's protective mold and let her shoulders relax. She made an obvious fake laugh and nodded. "Totally didn't think you would." Veronica's voice trailed off at the end of her statement. Heather smiled her eerie grin.

They stood there in collective silence for no more than a moment when a red car pulled up. 

_Great_. Veronica thought to herself. _Another fucking object she owns that's red._

Heather spent no time waiting; she immediately opened the passenger door and got in. Veronica followed after her, albeit, to the back seat.

The interior of the car was rather nice. It was a padded leather material that was surprisingly, _somehow_, not any shade of red. The car smelled brand new, or at least, recently cleaned. The driver was a guy with shaggy brown hair and a red letterman's jacket. He and Heather were engaged in a whispery discourse. Quiet enough that Veronica couldn't hear it.

_That's probably why they were whispering. _Veronica thought to herself. She sighed before shifting more towards the window. She watched as buildings she knew flew by. She wondered if she'd ever get to see them again.

Getting lost in thought, worries of the chances of ever seeing her parents, friends, or home again. She aimlessly lost herself in her own mind. She hardly noticed when the scenery changed from the town of Sherwood to an interior parking lot. The car was driving down a spiral at a slow rate until it stopped completely randomly in the middle. Veronica turned her gaze away from the window and at the driver. Him and Heather were whisper talking. Veronica watched as Heather pulled out her phone and opened an application and pressed something.

Veronica didn't know what Heather pressed, but once she did, the ground beneath the car started shaking. Veronica watched in utmost horror as the car started _going down._ Veronica freaked, she screamed but quickly muffled herself. She heard Heather and the driver chuckling up front. She felt her chest tighten as her breaths became shallow.

_Oh God. _Veronica's thoughts pounded against her skull. _I'm going to die here._ Veronica quickly pulled her legs up against her chest and buried her face in her knees, letting the absolute dread wash over her. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and before she knew it, she was full out sobbing. 

Veronica didn't know how long she sobbed into her knees, trying desperately to tell herself that everything would be alright and that she would come out fine. That her knees were the embrace of her mother or father. All she knew was that almost as soon as the shaking started, it stopped.

Veronica's crying slowly stopped as she realized that she was still alive. She was about to look up when she felt a hand grab a hold of her hair and yank it up. Heather gave her a look of petulance, as if Veronica's panic attack had annoyed her, rather than concern her.

_"We're here, you're alive, now stop crying."_ Heather spoke with such a cruelty in her voice, as if she didn't necessarily care that Veronica had no idea where she was. Veronica nodded at Heather's order and sat up. Heather let go of her hair.

Heather turned around and stepped out of the car. Veronica followed swiftly afterwards. Looking around, Veronica was extremely confused; they had gone into the ground, how could it be that they were now in a corridor as wide as her house. The interior of the corridor was brightly lit with a yellowish light. The walls were painted a soft red-ish color, _of course. _The furniture contrasted both those colors, however, as most of it was a dark green. 

Veronica trekked behind Heather, gawking at the _god awful color scheme, _taking note of just how many couchs, chairs, and tables she saw. They were placed around sporadically, but still maintained a sort of form. 

Veronica had gotten to the count of 30 couches and 27 chairs when Heather stopped abruptly. Veronica, who was too busy gawking at the _terrible color scheme_ didn't take notice of this and walked directly into her back. Veronica shook her head upon realizing what she had done. She stepped back and mumbled an apology. Veronica couldn't see it, but she was sure that Heather was smirking.

Heather turned around to face Veronica, she wrapped her arm around her shoulder and pointed towards an oak door that Heather's figure had been blocking from Veronica's line of sight. 

"Veronica, once you walk through this door, you are hereby signing an oath," Heather used her arm to turn Veronica towards her and gripped her tightly. "You can not tell anyone of anything you see through this door, if you do, _you will be killed."_ Veronica shuddered as Heather took her arm away and sashayed towards the door. Veronica simply couldn't understand it, how was Heather able to say something so cruel and then walk away so coolly?

Heather opened the door and Veronica winced at the light coming through it, once her eyes adjusted to it, she gasped at what she saw. The room they had stepped into was just as, if not larger, as the previous corridor. Looking up, Veronica could see several people running around upstairs. It didn't appear that any of them were friendly with each other, however, as they all were shoving each other and giving each other murderous looks.

Looking around on the ground floor, Veronica was marginally surprised that the color scheme of this room was a little different. Instead of the traffic light scheme, it was a scheme of red and blue. The red happen to be all over the tile on the floor while the blue was the colors of the wall. It wasn't _much better_ from the previous room, but at least it wasn't _god awful._

Heather grabbed Veronica by her wrist and lead her to a circular desk where a girl with extremely light blonde hair and tan skin sat. She wore a yellow blouse that had a yellow diamond shaped pendant in her chest region. Veronica couldn't see what she was wearing due to her sitting down, but she was sure it was leggings.

"Heather," _Oh God,_ Veronica groaned to herself. _Another fucking Heather._ "Would you admit Veronica to the system?" The Heather with uber blonde hair smiled at Veronica and started typing away at something on her computer. Once she finished typing whatever, _of which Veronica had to admit, she typed extremely fast,_ she stood up and hopped over the desk to join Veronica and Heather. Veronica took notice that Heather's leggings were black like Heather's, but had little yellow flowers placed sporadically around. The flowers had an orange to yellow gradient. 

Heather then turned around and proceeded to yell at a coworker with black hair, _extremely white skin_, and yellow eyes. The girl had on a black tank top with a black pendant in the middle. She also had on black leggings. "Christine!" Heather yelled at the top of her lungs. Christine jumped in response to the noise and came running over immediately. Heather smiled at Christine's immediate obedience, which weirded out Veronica and added to her newly-found hatred against her.

"Yes, Heather?" Christine's voice slightly with fear.

"Heather and I are headed up to my office to admit Veronica to the system, can you take over manning the console?" Veronica felt extremely awkward at how casually Heather would mention her name in conversation and orders, as if everyone there already knew who she was.

"Yes, Heather." Christine responded with a slight nod before jumping over the desk and sitting down in the chair.

Heather grabbed Veronica's shoulder and pulled her along, with Heather shirking quietly behind. Up one flight of stairs they went, and then another, and then another, and then another, and _this place is under-fucking-ground, the least they could do is put in an elevator_. Veronica thought to herself, furious. Finally, after what must've been six flights of stairs, they walked down a short hallway and stopped in front of a door, which was, not to Veronica's surprise, red.

Heather knocked on the door and then proceeded to kick it open immediately. Inside the office was a maroon colored desk alined against the wall with several book cases surrounding it. Sitting at the desk was a girl with _even _paler skin than Christine, black hair, and dark brown eyes. She wore a dark green tank top underneath a light green blouse and had an extremely dark green pendant in her chest region. Veronica was fairly positive that whoever this was was wearing leggings.

"Heather," Heather shouted with an especially nasty tone of voice. Heather proceeded to jump out of the desk immediately and stand beside it instead. Heather smirked at Heather's obedience. Upon Heather standing up, Veronica took notice that Heather's leggings had almost vine-like spirals going down them with a dark to light green gradient.

"This is Veronica," Heather loudly announced with an _obnoxious_ tone of voice. Veronica gave a half smile and waved at Heather and Heather and then receded her hand back into her pocket. 

"What's the damage, Heather?" The green one asked with a semi-confident tone of voice, only to be shot back down into a cowardly state from Heather's glare. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean, Heather." Heather responded through gritted teeth. "I assassinated Nathan, but she saw it, gave me a pretty good fight when I tried to eliminate her," _It all kind of made sense now, they were assassins._ "I think she has potential." Heather grinned at Veronica with her terrifying smile.

Suddenly, the Heather with uber blonde hair grabbed Veronica's right arm. Veronica was about to snatch it back when she realized that Heather was measuring her. Veronica stood there, awkwardly, as Heather measured every limb on her body and jotted them down on a notepad. After what felt like forever, Heather stepped back and dropped Veronica's left arm.

Heather whispered something into Heather's ear. The green Heather looked envious at their exchange, but Veronica wasn't too sure as to why. 

Veronica fiddled with her thumbs as they talked. She was extremely anxious. It was just a regular Thursday, she went through school, got back her progress report (Which had all A's) ate lunch, chatted with Betty and Martha, and was going to go home, but she never made it there. And now, apparently she was inside of an assassin organization about to be recruited by three people who all shared the same first name: Heather.

Veronica lightly pinched herself on her thumb to make sure she wasn't just having a really vivid nightmare. To her disappointment, her thumb throbbed softly with pain. This was no dream, this was reality.

Heather slapped a hard hand onto Veronica's back, snapping her directly out of her thoughts. She looked up at her and saw all three of them standing together. Now that they all stood together, with Heather in the middle, blonde Heather on the left, and green Heather on the right, Veronica took notice of just how _fucking tall blonde Heather was. _Veronica didn't like that fact that Heather towered over her with an easy 4 inches; so she loathed the fact that Heather must've been around 6'2. And then there was Heather, who was shorter than both Heathers by a long run. Even Veronica towered over her. Heather must've been about 5'3.

"Okay?" Heather asked Veronica with a snotty tone of voice. Veronica glanced at her with inquisitive. The look on Heather's face bordered on petulant. Veronica could tell her patience was razor thin just by looking at her eyes.

"Okay." Veronica whispered in response. She didn't know what she was agreeing to, nor did she actually really want to, but if it meant Heather didn't kill her, than that was a win in her book, she hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, didn't forget about this story, just don't have time. Soooooooooo, the plan for this is for it to follow the original musical with there being 20 chapters based off of the corresponding musical number. Of course, its going to be draaaaaastically different given that this is about assassins lmao ty for reading and staying patient

Veronica looked around nervously before opening and hastily shutting the bathroom door. Once inside, Veronica exhaled slowly and locked it. The bathroom was the one room in this "organization" that Veronica could find some peace and quiet, some tranquility from Heather.

Veronica gazed at the marble tiling and countertops before slinking to the floor and pulling out her diary from underneath her shirt. She thumbed it's blue, somewhat torn-up cover, tracing over the lettering that spelled out 'Diary'.

She opened it and thumbed through the pages, reminiscing about her loss of normal life. She smiled softly as she gazed over entries of her complaining about boys and grades, and frowned when the entries turned from typical high school drama into venting rants about how she didn't want to kill people.

She stopped her thumb on the first entry she made from inside the organization, she sighed, remembering the panic that came from that day. The cruelty that Heather depended upon, the kindness that somewhat shone through with Heather, and the envy that seemed to radiate from Heather. Veronica smirked softly, it was only six weeks ago that she could barely believe they all shared the same name, now she was able to clearly tell them apart. Sometimes.

As Veronica had discovered, Heather's last name was Chandler. Veronica could easily see why. Chandler sounded like such a powerful name, a name that belonged to someone who would redefine a legacy or make one at least. And even before Veronica had her unfortunate encounter with Heather, she associated the name Chandler with red. Heather's last name was McNamara, which at first thought, Veronica thought was hyphenated, until she saw Heather's last name on a door plaque. McNamara felt like a suitable name for Heather, it wasn't as intimidating as Chandler, but still had an air of superiority over Sawyer. And Heather's last name was Duke, which was odd, as all the other Heathers' last names felt like they fit, whereas Heather's felt too big for her. Duke was the name of an ivy league college, a way to describe a member of royalty, a name of power. It simply didn't suit someone who appeared to be more of an assistant; an underdog. 

Despite all of that, despite all their differences, Veronica still sometimes couldn't tell Heather and Heather apart. She could obviously tell Heather apart from Heather and Heather, since Heather's power complex was as large as the world, but sometimes she got Heather and Heather mixed up. 

Veronica blinked, and then groaned. She had only been here for six weeks and she was already _ way too fucking tired _. She sighed solemnly as she lightly read over the first entry.

. . .

After Veronica had meekly muttered, "Okay," in response to Heather, she had basically signed her life away. She never did actually find out what Heather asked her, but she was sure it was something about being on a death contract.

Immediately after she agreed to the end of normal life as she knew it, the three Heathers whisked away on a tour of the establishment while also providing details as to who the hell they all were.

"I'm a part of the Chandler family, which had rich roots in Sherwood." Veronica barely noticed it, but she saw Heather roll her eyes. Whether it was out of hearing this story a thousand times or perhaps a tiredness that came from the exaggeration Heather's story seemed to emit, Veronica would never know. "Until about 100 years ago, when my great-grandfather realized that Sherwood is a lot more filthy of a town than he initially thought."

Veronica opened her mouth, about to ask how, but quickly shut it, deciding it was best not to anger the almighty Heather Chandler.

"So, he established an organization set on training assassins, of course, after he died, he wanted his legacy to continue, so it was passed down to my father, and now to me." Heather stopped abruptly and gave Veronica a smug grin. 

"So, you guys kill people?" Veronica stuttered out, both Heathers simultaneously shot her a look of shock. Heather stopped for a moment, did something with her chest pendant, and continued walking.

"No, we assassinate people who know too much." Heather's voice was laced with an emotion that Veronica didn't immediately recognize at first. It would hit her later that it was shame. Despite her confident demeanor, her way of commanding rooms and presence, her way of being a _ total bitch _, she still felt shame for the murders she committed.

"Okay, but what qualifies as, 'someone who knows too much'?" Heather and Heather exchanged glances with each other. It wasn't necessarily a glance of concern or shock, but rather one of sympathy.

"We'll get there, Veronica." Heather hummed under her breath. 

Veronica shuffled behind the traffic light trio as they guided her through the building. The first floor had several offices and a command center, where tall Heather mainly worked. The command center was where every single employee of the organization was tracked and watched. As Veronica would learn, the pendants weren't useless gems added for decorations, they were cameras.

"We track employees to make sure they don't betray us once they leave." Heather stated as they passed by the command center. 

"What qualifies as betrayal?" 

"Telling anyone about this organization's existence, there's also another way someone can betray this organization, but," Heather maneuvered a painful smile across her face. "We'll get to that."

The first level contained several offices dedicated to regular employees, along with an indoor pool and a ginormous auditorium. 

Going up one flight of stairs brought the group to the documentation level. Each room was filled with filing cabinets stacked to the _ fucking ceiling _, which Veronica considered to be a major fire hazard. 

"So, what are in these cabinets anyway?" Veronica wiped a finger across a pile of dust collecting on top of one.

"Oh, it's just the records of every single person in Sherwood." Green Heather interjected, earning herself a scolding glare from Heather.

"Every single person?" Veronica repeated, half in disbelief. Sherwood had a population easily over 500,000, _ how the hell did they have files on everyone? _

Heather flipped her long black hair over her shoulder. "Every person, living or used to be alive."

Veronica gazed at the seemingly endless filing cabinets. Each and every single one contained files on people. People who Veronica knew. People who Veronica saw on the daily. People who Veronica saw on her way to school. _ People she saw on her way to this hellhole. _They had a file on every single one.

"Where's my file?" Veronica muttered mostly to herself in bewilderment. 

"It's in the office," Blonde Heather spoke up with a cheerful tone. "At this point, Christine should be emailing your school principal."

Veronica had been dragged around by the trio of Heathers that she completely forgot about Christine. "Wait, why?"

"Well, you're not going to need to finish school, Veronica." Heather interjected with a poison in her voice. The calmness of the way she said her statement mixed with it's foreboding meaning made Veronica want to puke.

"What?"

"Well, you see, once you join this organization, you're not allowed to leave. Once you stepped into this building, you signed an oath, you don't have a life outside of here anymore, this is now your life." Veronica felt the knot in her stomach harden by tenfold. Veronica wanted to finish high school. She wanted to leave Sherwood. She wanted to go to college, have a life, fall in love. Not be trapped in an organization full of murderers. 

"But what about schoo-"

"We're having you withdrawn."

"Huh? Ho-"

"When we have students join this organization, we have them withdrawn and then we send a placeholder student to spread the rumor that they have been expelled. From there, you are no longer a student, but an apprentice." Heather flashed her eerie grin.

"Who's usually the placeholder?"

"It varies from time to time, but we usually send Heather out for those missions because nobody remembers her anyway." Green Heather shot Heather a look of pure anger before redirecting her gaze to the floor. Veronica felt a ping of sympathy for her. Being Heather's punching puppet surely didn't seem fun.

"So, do I live here now?"

"No, you're allowed to go home and such, but you come here now instead of school." Heather's eyebrows raised. Veronica could tell that Heather's patience was getting extremely thin. She bit her lip and nodded, not desiring to test her luck.

The rest of the tour wasn't anything to really remember. The third level was full of humongous gyms designed for "training". There were seven gyms to be exact. Each gym had a different function. One was for throwing knifes, 2 was for rifles and ranged weapons, 3 was for interpersonal fighting, 4 was for impractical weapons, such as chainsaws, 5 was for handguns and short ranged weapons, 6 was for explosives, and 7- well, Veronica thought Gym Seven's purpose was weird. As the Heathers walked passed, Heather simply stated, "Gym Seven is training for fighting against other assassins, however, we don't use it often."

Were there more assassins in Sherwood? Veronica hoped not, this one organization was full of enough nuts to feed a colony of chipmunks.

Level 4 was the cafeteria. 

"We provide food here at the cost of nothing, of course, you're allowed to leave the building to grab your own food, or you can choose to not eat." Heather shot a glare at Heather. Heather flashed Heather a sympathetic look once Heather looked away. Heather's face told Veronica almost all she needed to know. Heather had an eating disorder that Heather liked to poke fun at.

Level 5 was the artillery level. Every room was designated for a specific weapon. Knives. Guns. Bombs. You named it, it was most likely on that level.

Level 6, as Veronica had already found out, contained several offices intended for the higher ups of the organization. Of course, there were three offices designated to each Heather, but Veronica took note of a fourth office whose door had been marked with a red X. Veronica was tempted to ask why, but a hand on her shoulder from blonde Heather, who Veronica assumed saw her staring at the door, furthered her urge to stay silent.

They went back to the first floor, where Heather toured Veronica to their massive swimming pool and finished the tour off at the auditorium. Taking one look at the auditorium, Veronica felt herself shrink. The room was enormous and easily had over 20,000 seats. 

Once they were back in the main foyer, Heather assigned green Heather to be her trainer while tall Heather went back to manning the central office. Heather also gave Veronica her training outfit, which was identical to the ones they all wore, yet it was a dark blue with a light blue pendant. Veronica was also given a pair of black leggings that had spots of blue and purple all over. Veronica found her leggings quite odd, as every other employee was seen wearing typical black leggings.

Throughout her first training cycle, she quite liked green Heather. Unlike Heather, Heather was more kind and patient with her. Giving her time to correct her mistakes without shooting her glares. Even though the training sessions were exhausting, tiring, and strenuous, Veronica always felt weirdly happy to start another session with Heather.

Over a six week period, Veronica was extensively trained in hand-to-hand combat. Veronica found that she was actually quite proficient at fighting. Namely due to the fact that she had built up an insane amount of anger towards Heather and fighting always allowed her to release her pent up rage. Of course, just when Veronica thought she was getting good, Heather would knock her flat on her ass with one simple twist of the hand. 

Veronica had actually never gotten more bruises in her life. Every night, after she drove home, having been provided a blue car by the organization, she would analyze her body in the mirror. She felt more fit, athletic-almost. She was certain that she would feel almost confident about herself if it wasn't for the fact that her body was laced with black and brown bruises. It hurt to lay down and often Veronica wished that Heather had just killed her the day they met rather than letting her live.

At the end of her first two week training period, (Veronica found out that trainers were swapped out every two weeks) Heather was swapped out with Heather. Heather was a lot more friendly than Heather, Veronica would admit, yet she was fucking terrifying to fight against. Against Heather, Veronica felt like she had some sort of advantage, whether it came from the fact that Heather was a little bit on the chubby side or her lack of height. Against Heather, she had no advantages. Heather easily towered over her and was extremely lean and fit. As Veronica would later find out, before Heather was recruited, she was a cheerleader.

Every single fight against Heather Veronica either lost or stalemated. There were no fights that she won, unlike with Heather. Veronica couldn't necessarily say if she improved or just suffered. 

Yet, at the very end of her two week cycle with Heather, Veronica managed to almost win one fight. Veronica had been tackled to the floor by Heather, Heather was reaching for a foam knife to end the round when Veronica shoved her elbow into Heather's face and kicked her off of her. Had Veronica not immediately fucked up by trying to charge her, she would've won.

And then came her two week cycle with Heather. Veronica was dreading her cycle with Heather ever since her first cycle with Heather. As Veronica feared, Heather showed no mercy. Every fight was basically to the death, considering how hard Heather packed her punches. And yet, despite the fact that Heather showed no mercy fighting, she gave Veronica a good bit of encouragement. 

Granted, that encouragement came in the form of a helping hand off the floor and a snide comment such as, "Come on, fucknut, I know you can do better." and "Jesus Christ, I brought you here so you could fight, not act like Mother Teresa." They weren't great encouragement, but they weren't death threats either. Unlike with Heather, Veronica felt herself both suffering and improving. Underneath her dozens of black and blue bruises, she could see the lines of her muscles tensing and forming. Her parents wondered why she writhed with pain whenever she lied down, but were shrugged off by Veronica saying she had a long day.

The end of her first training cycle was apparently an indication that she was physically fit to kill someone. She found this out by a harsh jerking into Heather’s office after clocking in.

Heather yanked Veronica into her office and slammed the door shut behind them. She beckoned for Veronica to sit down in front of her.

“Now that you are,” Heather eyed Veronica up and down. “_ Somewhat trained, _ ” Veronica frowned. _ How many training cycles would she have to go through before she was ‘completely trained’? _“I’m placing my faith in you to have your first assassination.” Heather whipped her hair over her shoulder and crept around Veronica. “You will have a week's training in lethal knife blows and casual conversations before I send you out, alright?” Veronica simply nodded her head in response. Heather flashed her grin. “Alright. See you soon.” 

Veronica didn’t move out of her chair. 

Heather cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Veronica opened her mouth to speak but her voice died in her throat. She felt her palms secrete sweat and her face flare up. She eyed the floor, forming the words in her throat. She locked eyes with Heather, who had not broken eye contact with her, even for a second, and sighed. 

“Who am I killing?”

“_ Assassinating, We’re assassins, not murderers _.” Heather’s face had a mixed expression. It was torn between its usual cold, hardened demeanor and an expression of guilt and regret.

Veronica rolled her eyes, secretly relishing in Heather feeling _ something _ other than _ superiority. _ “Fine, who am I _ assassinating?” _

Within one blink, Heather’s guilty expression was gone, once again replaced with her usual, _ annoying fucking face. _Without breaking eye contact with Veronica, (Which was something Heather was unnaturally good at) she reached down into her desk and pulled out a file before throwing onto the desk in front of Veronica.

“Martha Dunnstock.”

Hearing Martha’s name sounded so ordinary compared to all of the legacy names she had been hearing over the past six weeks. Dunnstock didn’t even come close compared to Chandler, or McNamara, hell Dunnstock sounded pretty boring when compared to Sawyer.

Veronica squinted her eyes at Heather. She crossed her arms and legs, attempting to present herself with some sort of power. It most likely looked laughable to Heather, but Veronica didn’t care.

“No.”

Heather’s expression didn’t even flinch. Her eyes remained narrow and eyebrows eternally creased downwards, forever projecting her anger to the world. Her lips twitched slightly as she linked her fingers together and set her head on top of it. “You don’t get to make that choice, you realize that?”

“I’m not going to fucking kill one of my best friends, are you psychotic-”

“Are we gonna have a problem?” Heather’s eyes narrowed as she stood up. Slowly, and with high prose and perfection, she marched towards Veronica. “You got a bone to pick?” She was to the left of Veronica at this point, her finger outstretched, pointing condescendingly at Veronica. “You’ve come so far, why now,” Heather was behind her now, easily out of sight. Despite the anxiety rising in her throat, Veronica resisted the temptation to look behind her. This was the only power she had over Heather at this point; not giving her attention. 

“Why now are you pulling on my dick!” Within what couldn’t have been more than a second, Heather had wrapped her arm around Veronica’s neck and yanked her entire body, including the chair, onto the floor. 

Veronica groaned in pain as the wood did not provide any cushioning for her sudden fall to the floor. Through slitted eyes, Veronica saw Heather’s legs above her. One of those legs moved and was suddenly on her chest, grinding itself into her. Veronica gritted her teeth. She clawed desperately at Heather’s leg only for Heather to laugh in her face. 

“I’d normally fucking kill you for giving me this disrespect, but I’m feeling nice,” Heather removed her leg off of Veronica’s chest. Rapidly and all at once, Veronica inhaled large gulps of air, filling her lungs with oxygen that had been knocked out of her. Heather was in front of Veronica now, she leaned down and grabbed Veronica by the cuff of her shirt. Somehow, Veronica watched in horror and awe as Heather lifted her upper body off the ground and dangerously close to her face.

“Here’s some advice;” Heather’s breath flew against Veronica’s face. It was blaring hot and unpleasant. “Listen up, bitch!” And with that, Heather let go of Veronica’s shirt for her to fall onto the ground with a loud thud. Her body ached terribly. Bruises from training and now assault from Heather. _ Veronica’s life could not get any fucking better. _

“Okay.” Veronica muttered, feeling ashamed and severely agitated that she _ literally couldn’t fucking do anything to the almighty Chandler _. 

“Good.” Heather held out her hand to Veronica. Veronica reluctantly took it, using it as a support to help herself up. She shuffled out of Heather’s office, wincing all the while new bruises formed around her neck.

. . .

Veronica slammed her diary shut. A week later in knife training and _ casual conversations _ , Veronica still was very adamant in her distaste for _ killing one of her only friends. _ Most of the organization ignored her complaints, only nodding slightly in agreement or groaning softly that she had brought the topic up. Both Heathers were suspiciously silent towards her vents and _ Heather. _ Well, Heather was Heather. Veronica didn’t even bother to _ try _ to vent to Heather.

Slowly, she brought herself to her feet, sliding her diary under her shirt and securing it under her bra. She dusted off her leggings before wrapping her hands around the door handle, swinging it open, instantly getting hit with a gust of cold air. Shaking her head, she stepped out, almost immediately getting hit in the shoulder and knocked to the ground. 

Veronica groaned, against the blaring lights she could vaguely make out the form of Kurt Kelly in front of her. The more she squinted the more she could see the smug grin on his face. She opted to close her eyes. “What do you want, Kurt?” Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney were notoriously around the organization for being massive dicks to almost everyone. They were almost the highest of their caliber, highly trained and extremely efficient. _ Extremely annoying _ . Apparently before they were recruited, they were football players, which Veronica didn’t find much shock at, _ anyone this annoyingly entitled had to have had something that fed their ego to that point. _

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” Veronica slumped forward, feeling her diary poke awkwardly against her stomach. “I do, where’s your other half? You two are literally inseparable.” Veronica meant that as an insult but it came out more like an observation. 

“He’s in training.” Veronica nodded, waving to the few people walking around them. They didn’t wave back, returning her gaze with a glare. “You should probably go before I-”

“You what? Stuff me into a trash can?” Veronica stood up and crossed her arms. “Heather certainly wouldn’t be happy with that.” She smirked at Kurt’s cowered expression. Something behind Veronica made his expression change into a devious smirk.

“I’m not happy with how you keep me waiting, Veronica.” 

_ Fuuuuuuuuck. _

Veronica’s face contorted into a wince, while Kurt had a small chuckle at her pain. She raised her hand and turned it into a middle finger as she twisted her body to look at Heather. Heather had her arms crossed, her face contorted in slight annoyance and amusement and at Veronica’s pain. Kurt slapped Veronica’s hand down and flipped her off back. Veronica made a mental note to yell, “Fuck you!” every time she saw one of them from then on. 

Heather flawlessly turned on her heel and marched towards her office. Veronica staggered behind, getting caught up in crowds that seamlessly made way for Heather. Veronica groaned internally. _ Today absolutely could not be any worse. _

After practically body slamming her way up six flights of stairs, Veronica found herself trailing behind Heather into her office. She slumped into the chair in front of Heather’s desk and watched as Heather sauntered her way behind it. Heather sat down with ease and elegance, interlocking her fingers together and laying her chin on top of it. She peered at Veronica.

“Are you ready? Or are you going to throw a fit like before?”

Veronica opened her mouth to say something, but Heather’s eyebrow raise was enough to shut her up completely.

“Yes, Heather.”

“Fantastic, now,” Heather reached down and opened one of the drawers in her desk. She pulled out an iPhone 6 and slid it over to Veronica. “This phone contains the location of Martha and when she is most vulnerable. It also has the lever for triggering the underground base.” Veronica stared at the phone in mild awestruck. She had never owned a phone, her parents were always much too strict about _ everything _. 

“Are you going to take it or are you going to keep staring at it?” Veronica shook her head, quickly grabbed the phone and slipped it into her pocket. 

“Okay, what else?”

Heather gave Veronica _ that _look, the look of, ‘Are you seriously asking that dumb of a question right now?’. Veronica held up her hands in the universal symbol of peace before getting up and walking out. 

She pulled out the phone, gandering at the lockscreen for a moment before actually opening the phone. The phone had its usual apps, such as the calendar and reminders, as well as two apps simply titled “Locations” and “Enabler”. Veronica rolled her eyes before shutting the phone back off and pocketing it.

Veronica normally hated walking through the organization, it was much too wide in her opinion, made her feel like she was trapped in an experimental vacuum chamber. Not to mention it was a chore getting from place to place. _ Maybe that was why everyone was always running. _

But today? Veronica enjoyed her walk. She made sure her steps were half-smaller than usual and that she sauntered towards the ‘entrance’ of the organization rather than walked. Anything that would prolong Martha’s life, prolong Veronica from having to see Martha’s dead body, prolong Veronica from having to sit at a funeral of a person _ she _ killed.

But with all good things, it came to an end. Veronica reached the loading dock. She sighed as she took her place on it, opening the phone and tapping on the ‘Enabler’ app. It opened and Veronica felt the ground beneath her tremble.

. . . 

The ‘Locations’ app on the phone tracked Martha with scary efficiency. It stated that Martha would be at a local playground, swinging on the third swing, farthest northern corner from the box. It most importantly told Veronica, as she noted by it’s bolded text, that Martha was alone. 

The playground came into view. Veronica easily spotted a large pink blob, rapidly going back and forth through the air. Veronica slowed her car before halting it completely a few feet away. She hopped out of the car, leaving it on and keeping the door cracked as to provide an easy escape. She approached with light steps, keeping her eyes trained on the moving body of Martha. As she neared closer, she moved the knife attached to her belt into her hand, gripping it tightly.

She raised her knife and waited for Martha to fall into a predictable arc. It was a clean, easy shot, it would pierce Martha in the back, Veronica would run over, rip the knife from her back, and leave her to bleed out. _ It should’ve been easy _, Veronica could hear Heather’s words echoing in her mind. Her hand started the shake rapidly, her aim going off point. 

Veronica took a moment, lowering her knife and taking a breath. She glanced back at the running car before glancing back at the knife in her hand. Veronica shook her head before raising her arm and throwing the dagger. She watched, her eyes refusing to blink, her breathing hitched from the second the hilt left her hand.

It flew out of her hand, and it nearly grazed the side of Martha’s torso as it embedded itself into a tree next to the playground. Martha instantly tumbled out of the swing, wildly looking around for who would’ve tried to kill her. Her eyes landed on Veronica, a shimmer of hope was seen. She stumbled to her feet and walked over to Veronica, putting a shaking hand on her shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Veronica’s voice wavered slightly, she hoped Martha didn’t notice.

“Did you see who threw that? And-” Martha stepped back from Veronica. “Where have you been?”

Veronica shook her head before grabbing Martha’s shoulders. “Listen, I don’t have all the answers you need, but you need to trust me when I say to get out of here, okay?”

“I don-”

“Just go!” Veronica screamed, cutting across Martha’s words. Martha was taken aback by Veronica’s sudden increase in volume, she seemed a little hurt by it too. Slowly, she turned around and started running in the opposite direction from her.

Veronica’s face contorted itself into a small smile. She walked back to the car at a sluggish pace, ready to face Heather’s wrath.

. . .

“You fucking did ** _what_ **?” Heather glared at her with the rage of a thousand suns. Her neck was strained, her hands were gripping the edges of her desk, and her eyebrows had never creased down further.

“I missed.” 

Heather let out a few labored breaths, as if she was trying to keep her cool, before suddenly letting go of her desk, leaning back in her chair, and letting out a bark of laughter. 

Veronica was mildly confused by this, but chose to softly laugh along, hoping it would prolong her demise.

“Loveless Street, there’s a 7-11 there, go grab me a pack of corn nuts. BQ. Now.”

Veronica perked an eyebrow. “I don’t understan-”

“It’s on the other side of town, you’re going to walk there, and it’s probably going to save your life, because if you stay in here any longer, I’m going to fling a dagger in your face, okay?”

Veronica held her hands up before nodding swiftly. She stood up and rushed out the door, silently thanking whatever god there was for her life. 

_ If only she knew where Loveless Street actually was. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo that feeling when you're looking over your outline for this fanfiction and you realize that you never scripted out a Freeze Your Brain chapter so you have to awkwardly splice the Big Fun chapter into two making it feel weird in your mind but maybe not others?
> 
> Anyways, JD.

Veronica stumbled aimlessly outside Heather's office. Although she _desperately_ wanted to leave, knowing it would most likely prevent her demise at the hands of a _literal_ _red scrunchie_, it would be just as stupid to wonder all over Sherwood, looking for a place that Veronica had never heard of in her life.

Although, the more Veronica thought about it, the more she’d wager surviving against potential rapists than deadly assassins. Her combat skills were guaranteed higher than the average person, so being in a place full of people who were simply _ not average _ just automatically lowered her survival rate.

She ran a hand across her face and groaned. Veronica turned the corner, ready to shuffle back down _six_ _goddamn flights of stairs,_ when instead, she was greeted by Heather accidentally ramming herself into her. Veronica stumbled back a few feet, away from the opening of the stairs, whereas Heather tumbled down the stairs she had just climbed. She laid motionless against the wall turning the staircase, papers and folders laying askew all around her.

Veronica slowly raised a hand to her mouth, _ did she just kill Heather? _ Veronica immediately leaped down the stairs, sliding to her knees as she approached Heather’s body. Carefully, Veronica shoved some of Heather’s black hair aside and put two fingers to Heather’s neck. She desperately awaited for a pulse underneath her fingertips.

“Heather? Please tell me you’re alive?”

Heather softly mumbled something Veronica couldn’t hear. Veronica slumped backwards as she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my God.” Veronica ran a hand through her hair before repeating the statement to herself once again.

One of Heather’s arms sluggishly moved up to massage the back of her neck. Her eyes flickered open. Her brown eyes instantly met with Veronica’s, who shoved herself forward towards Heather, grabbing the various scattered papers around them. 

“Heather, oh my God,” Veronica, in her haste, crumpled a few of the papers trying to pick them up. This elicited a slight look of cringe from Heather, who hastily snatched the papers out of Veronica’s hand and picked up the rest herself. “I’m sorry, I thought I might’v-”

“Killed me?” Heather raised an eyebrow, her lips slightly curved up in a smirk. “It’s gonna take more than that to kill me.” Heather picked up the last paper, laying it flatly on top of the folder before tugging it tightly against her chest. She stood up in a haste, holding a hand out to Veronica. Veronica smiled softly and took it. She let out a little yelp as Heather yanked her up harder than anticipated.

“So, where are you off to in a hurry?”

“Oh, I uh, failed my first assassination,” Shock instantly covered Heather’s face. “So, Heather told me to go to a 7-11 on Loveless street,” Confusion started to mix with the shock in Heather’s face. “You don’t happen to know where that is, do you?”

“Hold on,” Heather placed a hand on Veronica’s shoulder. “Can we get back to the part where you’re not a corpse lying on her office floor?”

“Hahaha, you know, I’d really like to _ not _ talk about that.” Veronica’s voice cracked on the word ‘not’. Heather slowly nodded.

“Right, uhm, you know where downtown is?” Veronica nodded. “Take a left next to the northernmost McDonald’s and it should be straightforward from there.” 

Veronica instantly shook Heather’s hand. “Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!” She repeated, before booking it down the staircase, and sliding around the corner. Heather winced as she heard an audible thud and a loud groan emit from Veronica.

Heather shook her head, shifting the files and papers closer to her chest. Heather usually ‘got rid of’ anybody who showed the slightest bit of failure when it came to assassinations. Most people who failed ended up dead. Heather would know, she was always the one burying the bodies in remote locations to ensure that they wouldn’t be found. Some were let off with a severe warning. Shivers ran over Heather’s arms as her fingers softly grazed the scar along the side of her body. But to have been simply let off like how Veronica was? Heather shook her head. 

“Weird.”

. . .

The sun was blazing, the temperature was high, and the humidity was dreadful. It felt as if Veronica was moving through sludge, with each step becoming more and more unbearable. Especially with her stupid outfit being black. Veronica placed her hand on her forehead, letting some coolness transfer to her hand. Heather may not have killed her, _ but this sure was one bitch of a punishment. _

Veronica’s relentless walking did eventually pay off, with the hazy form of a 7-11 starting to take shape in the distance. Veronica’s feet began to pick up pace, she could practically feel the shitty AC blasting over her, cooling her off and rewarding her for her long journey. She could practically _ taste _ a 7-11 slushie, rehydrating her internal organs and making her feel alive again.

She could practically taste her life, as BQ Corn Nuts had never been closer.

The doors breezed open almost seamlessly. Heaven rained on Veronica’s skin as the AC washed over her, breathing against every drop of sweat on her body. She stood in the doorway for a solid minute, soaking up every ounce of coolness. A chill running down Veronica’s back was her indication to move on, that her body had _ finally _ returned to a healthy homeostasis. 

Veronica weaved through the isles, running her hands along various things, grabbing two bags of BQ Corn Nuts in the chips isle, and arriving finally at the slushie machine. Veronica let out a relaxed sigh as she grabbed a medium sized cup and placed it underneath the blueberry slushie dispenser. Reaching up, she rested her hand on the dispenser lever.

“_Aren’t you going to supersize that?” _

The voice gave Veronica chills that ran down her back. It was a mix between deep and soft, smooth and raspy. It sounded like honey on Veronica’s ears. A smirk painted itself across her face as she slowly turned around. 

Behind here stood the most attractive stranger she had seen in a _ long _ while. Black hair that was seamlessly swooped over to one side. It seemed so fluffy yet stagnant in its placement. _ Veronica could imagine how soft his hair would feel against her fingers. _His skin was pale white, a bright contrast to the rest of his attire. He wore a dark blue button up that was tucked into his black jeans. His finishing piece seemed to be his oversized black trench coat. It nearly swept against the ground in its length, which Veronica found to be a little distracting. 

His lips were tucked up into a small grin. Veronica noticed, albeit rather quickly, that he had mocha brown eyes. 

“Uh, no,” Veronica’s voice slipped into a slightly more deep tone. Heat pooled in her cheeks, making them flush a deep scarlet. “But if you’re nice enough I’ll let you pay for it.”

The _ handsome _ stranger stuck out his hand. Veronica wordlessly took it. It was surprisingly warm and easily covered her hand. His hands were surprisingly soft, as if her hand had been wrapped in silk. Veronica only wished he held it longer, as once he pulled away, the warmth was replaced with the cool air.   
“Jason Dean, JD for short.”

“Ah,” Veronica acknowledged his name, still too distracted on how his hands felt against hers. “Verrronica,” She shook her head rapidly, trying desperately to snap herself out of her dazed state. She literally just slurred _ her own name. _Embarrassment quickly ran through her veins. “Sawyer. Veronica Sawyer.”

JD let out a low, raspy chuckle. Chills ran down her back. “Well, Verrronica,” He slurred her name in the same way she did. She let out a nervous laugh. “How does blueberry sound?”

Veronica was helpless to the situation in her _ very fair opinion _. He swooped the cup she had put down, replacing it with an extra large, and filling it to the brim with the flavor she was originally going to get. He proceeded to walk towards the cashier, cocking a head over his shoulder to see if Veronica was coming. She shook her head and trailed behind. 

JD paid for her slushie, Veronica paid for Heather’s Corn Nuts. She followed him outside where he handed her the slushie. Her hand brushed against his accidentally, leading to her blushing slightly. 

“You know,” JD pointed towards the Corn Nuts Veronica was carrying in her offhand. “Barbecue and blueberry don’t necessarily go together.”

Veronica let out a nervous chuckle. “What do you mean?”

JD leaned in towards her face, his eyes scanning all over her features looking for _ something _. It made Veronica feel rather uneasy. “I mean, who are you buying them for?”

“Oh,” Veronica leaned back slightly, attempting to put even the littlest bit of space between them. JD seemingly got her message, shifting back to his original position. “I’m getting them for a,” Veronica paused for a moment, thinking of a word she could call Heather. Boss? _ No, that would be weird. _ Acquaintance? _ That lacks the closeness. _The word felt like poison being used to refer to Heather, but it was the safest bet Veronica had. “Friend, of mine.”

“Ah, I see.” JD nodded. Veronica found herself subconsciously nodding with him. She quickly stopped. “You don’t like this friend of yours much, do you?”

Veronica let out a small chuckle. “_God, no _ ," 

JD raised an eyebrow. “Who is your friend?”

Veronica’s eyes jutted up to meet with his. Something started to slowly twist in her stomach. She couldn’t just tell him that she was casually friends with Heather Chandler, _ could she? _ She rapidly shook her head. “Just someone I know.”

JD looked somewhat unsatisfied with her response, as if he expected her to give a fully annotation presentation as to who her friend was. Veronica wanted to laugh at it, but she could somewhat understand the disappointment. _ If only he knew that she could be killed for talking about it. _

“Well, I should get going, thanks for the slushie.” Veronica started off on her long journey back.

“I hope we meet again, Veronica.”

The words brought an involuntary smile to Veronica’s face. The past two months had been nothing but fast-paced crazy that Veronica was _ still _ trying to process. It felt so _ refreshing _ to meet with someone who wasn’t a part of this whole assassin thing. _ Outside of him being her target too. _ Veronica winced. _ God, she hoped she could make it up to Martha one day. _

Spinning on her heel, Veronica once again faced JD. He flashed her a smile, she flashed him one back. 

“Me too.”

And with that, Veronica was off, leaving behind, once more, what she considered normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chansaw tingz

Upon Veronica returning to the organization (Of which Veronica soon learned was dubbed ‘Westerburg’.) and handing Heather her bags of Corn Nuts, Heather invited her to sit and talk with her for a minute. Veronica reluctantly agreed to it, fearing for her life if she didn’t

“So,” Heather ripped open the small bags of Corn Nuts with her hands, plunging her index finger and thumb inside to grab a few. “How was it?”

“Uhm,” Veronica nervously smiled, contemplating whether or not Heather should know of JD’s existence.  _ He seemed like such a nice guy and Veronica absolutely hated the idea of dragging him into this mess.  _ Although, considering how Heather had tabs on everyone in Sherwood… “It was hot, and when I got to the 7-11 uhm,” Veronica trailed off, watching as Heather hooked a leg over and onto her desk before leaning back in her chair.

“Go on.” Heather tossed a few more nuts into her mouth.

“Oh, right, uh,” Veronica smiled awkwardly, motioning with her hands what she wanted to say. Heather cocked an impatient eyebrow. Veronica’s hands plopped themselves into her lap with defeat. “I met someone.”

Heather scoffed. “That’s dangerous.” 

“Yeah, possibly, but man, he was,” Heather’s eyes instantly darted to Veronica’s the second she mentioned a male pronoun. “A sight for sore eyes.”

Heather put the nut she was raising to her mouth back in the bag. “Did you happen to catch a name?”

“Should I really tell his name?”

The corners of Heather’s lips curved up in a smirk as she tapped the pedant on her chest with her index finger. Veronica’s hands instinctively flew up to her pendant. She pursued her lips.  _ Fuck. _

“Alright, alright, you win.” Heather rolled her eyes as she raised the bag of Corn Nuts to her mouth to shovel a bunch in at one time. “His name was JD.”

The bag of Corn Nuts went flying across her desk, scattering nuts all over with some trickling onto the floor. Heather’s leg almost instantly fell off her desk as Heather’s hands grappled onto her throat. Heather wheezed several times, desperately trying to dislodge the piece of stuck nut. Eventually, with a hard enough cough, the chunk of nut flew right out of Heather’s mouth.

And directly onto Veronica’s face.

“Gross.” Veronica remarked as she hastily smeared the chewed up food off her face.

“Yeah, thanks for the help.” Heather took a moment to realign her posture, sending a text on her phone to someone, probably Heather, before setting it back down on her desk. “So you met JD, huh?”

Veronica slowly nodded, confused at Heather’s spiteful reaction to what was a normal guy.

Heather leaned towards Veronica, arms crossed. “A word of warning, stay away from him, he is,” For the first time since Veronica met Heather, Heather broke her gaze. “Extremely dangerous.”

“How?” Veronica rapidly shook her head. “Why?” There was no way JD was dangerous.  _ Literally no way.  _ In fact, he was the least dangerous person Veronica had met in a long time.

“Because I said so,” Heather shot Veronica a murderous glare. “Anymore questions?”

“No.” Veronica grumbled.

“Good, dismissed.” Heather waved Veronica off with a flick of her hand. Veronica was just relieved to be out of that room. 

_ What the Hell did Heather mean by JD being dangerous? The most dangerous thing about him was his likeness to fall down wearing that ridiculously long trenchcoat. _ The form of yellow Heather rapidly motioning for Veronica to hurry up queued her out of her thoughts. She would have to explore what Heather said another time.

. . .

Despite Veronica’s first impressions of Heather, mainly those of her being a  _ psychotic bitch _ , Heather actually proved to be fairly nice. Well, when she wanted to.

Veronica came to notice fairly quickly that despite Heather's verbal abuse towards her, Heather was softer on her than compared to everybody else. Whether it was her verbal abuse being shorter than most, or her never getting slapped like how Heather did to Heather sometimes.

It was odd, to say the least. Why was Heather so friendly to her?

After Veronica’s botched first assassination, Heather assigned her to what she considered as  _ light _ work. Namely, it was Veronica tagging along on other people’s assassinations and cleaning up the messes they made. 

Despite the numerous hot baths Veronica took, she sometimes still couldn’t get the scent of blood out from under her fingernails.

It was a revolting task, really, Veronica would’ve preferred anything else. Cleaning the shittiest toilet, walking in the blaring sun, delivering expired cheese, guarding the almighty herself,  _ literally anything other than mopping up someone’s internal organs _ .

Of course, there were times when Heather called Veronica into her office for no reason other than to talk. Sometimes it was about the mission Veronica had just been sent on. Other times it was about mundane things,  _ literally anything _ that got Veronica to stay in Heather’s office.

On very rare occasions, Veronica managed to pry something out of Heather in return for her own personal information. Her favorite color was red (big surprise). Her birthday was July 23rd. Her parents weren’t exactly the friendliest people, and despite being surrounded by people, she felt rather alone.

Granted, the last piece of information Veronica had to basically spill her entire life story to get. Veronica was recounting an experience where she had spent her entire birthday alone as none of her friends cared to show up. She made a condescending remark towards Heather that she must’ve never had to experience that, only for Heather to share a rare look of sadness and reply with, “I feel alone.”.

Before Veronica could get the chance to follow up on this statement, Heather had changed her demeanor back to a confident one and was leaning forward, placing her head in her hands, ready to ask Veronica more questions about trivial things.

Sometimes, Heather called Veronica into her office during a moment of crisis. She heard from Heather that Heather did the exact same thing to her; called her in and took out her frustration on her, screaming and berating her for everything she did. However, it was a little different for Veronica. Instead of getting screamed and insulted at, Heather just broke down. She would pound her fist on her desk and sob her eyes out, screeching about how everything was so overwhelming, so tiring. How paranoid she was, thinking that around every corner was her demise. Veronica simply patted Heather on the back and gave her the bare minimum in comfort. It seemed to satisfy Heather.

It was  _ weird _ . Veronica was literally nothing special and had only known Heather for a few months. Why was she so open towards her but not towards people she had known for years, such as Heather and Heather.

Heather wasn’t the only Heather that sometimes vented to Veronica. On unfortunate occasions, Veronica would waltz into a bathroom that Heather had decided to use to puke up her lunch. Veronica would immediately rush to her aid, grabbing paper towels and helping her wipe the vomit off her fingers. Despite this, Heather never was fully open about her problems. It was only when caught did she ever seem to show emotion. 

And Heather…well, if Veronica was being fully honest, Heather seemed perfectly happy. Always cheery, with a wide smile and a sickeningly sweet attitude that made Veronica want to barf at times.

Heather talked with Veronica so often and sometimes so humanly that Veronica would sometimes leave all her spite for her at the door. They’d talk, crack jokes, and exchange banter like they had known each other for years. Veronica felt uncomfortably comfortable around Heather. She didn’t like it. She wanted to hate Heather. But for some reason, she just couldn’t.

It all amounted to Heather calling Veronica into her office, saying that it was an urgent matter.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you in here.”

“Uh yeah, that’s why I’m here.” Heather smirked. She patted the desk, gesturing for Veronica to lay her hands on it. Veronica placed both her hands and her confusion in plain sight for Heather to see.

Heather did something that Veronica did not expect. She started stroking them. It was a fluid movement, one perfectly manicured index finger sliding down all the digits of Veronica’s hand. It was weirdly entrancing.

“I know you don’t like to do assassinations.” Heather stated it matter-of-factly, staring Veronica down all the while. “And I know you desperately want to do something other than dispose of bodies, so,” Veronica anxiously awaited Heather’s next statement. A task other than mopping up blood and burning bodies of living, human beings? She could hardly stand the anticipation any longer.

Heather’s finger stopped dead on Veronica’s left hand’s middle finger. It laid flat against it. Veronica looked down to see Heather slamming both her hands on-top of Veronica’s. She winced in pain. Heather analyzed her face with a mildly sympathetic glare.

“How would you like to be my bodyguard?”

Veronica peered at Heather, an eyebrow cocked in confusion. Heather could kill Veronica 96 ways to Sunday and knew how to disarm practically every single type of weapon,  _ what was possibly out there that Heather needed defending from? _ Heather awaited Veronica’s reply, with her two icy blue eyes boring into Veronica’s.

“Sure.”

Heather removed her hands from Veronica’s. Veronica hastily snatched them back into her lap, rubbing the sore areas. “Was that all?”

“No,” Heather leaned back in her chair, crossing both her legs and arms. “Heather’s birthday is tomorrow,” Veronica held up two fingers and flipped back and forth between them. “Duke. Heather Duke.” Veronica quietly mouthed “oh.” and nodded. “Your first assignment as my bodyguard is to go and get snacks,” Heather opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a thin piece of paper. She slammed it down on the desk and slid it to Veronica. Veronica hesitantly took it.

The list contained various items such as cupcakes, chips, and dips. Certain foods had instructions next to them as to where to find them. As the list went on the food got more  _ exotic, _ one could say, delving into specific types of liquor Veronica was to buy. Veronica raised her hand. Heather rolled her eyes before reaching over the desk and snatching the paper out of her hands. She hastily scribbled on the paper with a pen before handing it back.

With all the alcohol removed the item that Veronica had to grab last were BQ Corn Nuts. 

“That will be all. Dismissed.” Heather waved Veronica off with a flick of her hand. 

Only moments after Veronica left did Heather enter. Her tall, lean form casted shadows across Heather’s desk. Her hands were folded neatly behind her back and she repeatedly bit her lip. “Are you sure you really want to go through with this?”

Heather massaged her temple. “I can’t let her go,” She leaned forward. “All targets must be killed.” She leaned back, hooking a leg onto her desk. “She just has to learn the hard way that not all people can live.”

Heather nodded solemnly before exiting.

. . .

It took Veronica longer than she’d ever admit to find all the items on the list. Granted, she had been given a car to complete the assignment rather than being forced to walk around in the blaring sun, but that didn’t make finding the damn things any easier. Heather was so specific with some of the items,  _ like seriously, what the fuck was a lemon spice cookie? _

Nevertheless, Veronica persisted and finally emerged from her fifth grocery store visit of the day. She had only one place left to go: 7-11. 

She wondered if she would see JD there again. It was possible that he could still be around. It was possible that he had fucked off and gone on with life. It made Veronica kind of anxious thinking about seeing him after the warning Heather gave. At first, Veronica didn’t want to believe it, but over the past few weeks, she had grown to trust Heather in some sort. She didn’t believe that JD was  _ extremely  _ dangerous, but maybe Heather had his crime record or something.

Veronica parked the car out front, leaving the keys in the ignition. She skipped throughout the isles before finding the nuts Heather wanted. They were rather small bags, so Veronica did what any sensible person would do and grabbed the entire display. 

She shuffled her way to the counter and dumped the cardboard box in front of the cashier. The cashier gave her a tired look before grabbing each bag and ringing it up individually. 

“You throwin’ a party or something?” Chills ran down her spine. That  _ fucking smooth voice. _

“No, well, maybe.” Veronica choked out a reply, not bothering to look in his direction. The cashier was halfway through ringing all of the bags up.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s a lil’ odd to take an entire display for yourself.” Veronica lips involuntarily curved in a smile that she instantly swallowed. She turned to face him. He was practically identical to when she had first met him. Black trench coat that was  _ still a fire hazard _ . Black pants. Only difference was the cobalt shirt he wore instead of a dark blue one. He leaned on the counter next to Veronica, an eternally sexy smirk plastered on his face. 

“Nice shirt.” The cashier was now shoving all the mini bags into a larger bag. JD’s eyebrows flexed themselves upwards. 

“Who’s it for?” Veronica ripped the card out of the machine and shoved it into her legging pocket. She hastily reached for the bag. 

“A friend.”

She was nearly out the door when he called out to her. She froze, sighing, and deciding to be polite for once.

“Hey ‘Ronica,”

“Yes?”

His dark eyes met with hers. “Be careful about getting drunk at a party, people tend to  _ backstab _ .” 

Veronica didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. She merely turned on her heel and left through the door.

The shivers she got as the statement played in her mind wouldn’t go away. 

Maybe Heather was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well kinda chansaw tingz

**Author's Note:**

> I spent two weeks writing this and I'm super happy with how this turned out. Anyhow, thank you so much for reading and I'll see you in the next couple of weeks! Bye!


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